


What used to be

by Steph_Schell



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph_Schell/pseuds/Steph_Schell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles, Bass and Ben back when they were kids</p>
            </blockquote>





	What used to be

Ben rolled his eyes at the scratching at the back door. Those two were going to be the death of him some day he was sure of it. With a sigh, he tossed his book down and went to let his brother and best friend in. “What happened this time?” he asked taking in their appearances.

“He started it,” Bass declared pointing at Miles.

“Did not,” Miles argued. “You started it.”

The two began shoving each other and Ben had to pull them apart before it degraded to a full-fledged fight. “I didn’t ask who started it, I asked what happened,” Ben reminded them.

“We might have attacked Johnny Masters,” Bass half admitted.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Bass, either you hit him or you didn’t. There’s no half way about this. Now fess up, both of you.”

“We hit him,” Miles admitted. He always caved when his big brother looked at him like that. “But it wasn’t our fault. He hit first.” Miles showed Ben the scratches on his arm, one of which was bleeding slightly. Ben sighed and went to get the first aid kit.

“Yeah, and he was being an asshole,” Bass added.

“Watch your language,” Ben snapped as he returned. “Or I’ll tell your mother.”

“Sorry,” Bass mumbled.

“What did he do that got you two so riled up anyway?” Ben sighed. He began to clean and bandage his brother’s cut.

“He called my mom a lazy slut,” Bass told him. “He said she’d spread her legs for anyone.”

Ben was about to reprimand Bass for language again when Miles piped up. “It’s what he said Ben.”

“So instead of being reasonable, you two brats decided to jump him,” Ben sighed.

“Johnny ain’t reasonable,” Miles insisted. “We couldn’t let him talk about Bass’ mom like that.” Miles threw an arm around Bass’ shoulders.

“First off, the word is ‘isn’t’,” Ben corrected. “And next time just ignore him. Fights just get you into trouble.” Ben was tempted to lecture more but he knew it would just fall on deaf ears. “Bass, how bad are you hurt?”

Bass showed off the few bruises he had gained from the fight. “Miles was there to protect me.”

“Always got your back,” Miles declared loyally.

Ben shook his head as he put the first aid kit away. He came back with three baseball gloves, a bat and two baseball caps. “Let’s go,” he ordered, tossing the caps over to Miles and Bass.

“Where are we going?” Bass asked, frowning at the hat in his hands.

Ben gave them both a look to say ‘are you really that stupid’. “Pickup game, remember? Down in the open lot? If we don’t hurry we’ll be late.”

Both kids jammed the hats on their heads. “But ain’t…aren’t we going to be punished?” Miles asked.

Ben looked like he was considering it. “Well…mom and dad are the only ones who can give punishments, right?”

“Right,” Miles nodded.

“And since Mom is at the store and Dad is at work that means they don’t know right?”

“Right,” Bass agreed.

“So who’s going to punish you?” Ben gave them both a conspiratorial grin.

The two younger boys’ faces split into identical grins as they realized what this meant. “We have to hurry then,” Miles urged.

“Yeah, we do,” Ben agreed. “They’ll start the game without us if we don’t hurry.” Miles grabbed his glove from his brother. “Here, Bass, you can use one of my old spares. No sense in sending you home when you’d just get in trouble.”

“Thanks Ben,” Bass smiled.

“No problem, squirt.” Ben reached down to flick at Bass’ cap. “Now…last one to the field is a pink unicorn!” With that Ben tore off through the back door leaving Bass and Miles stunned behind him.

“Hey wait up!” Bass yelled, charging through the door.

“You ain’t beating me!” Miles screamed as he took off after his best friend. The early afternoon echoed with the laughter of the three boys racing to a neighborhood baseball game.


End file.
